


put him up on a pedestal

by sweetxtangerine



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Chilton Being an Asshole, Hate Sex, Implied Hamilton/Washington, M/M, Modern AU, Power Dynamics, Sub Chilton, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:25:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7047727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetxtangerine/pseuds/sweetxtangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the only thing Chilton loves more than being surrounded by powerful figures is to be fucked by them.</p><p>He meets Senator Washington at a fundraiser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put him up on a pedestal

**Author's Note:**

> For Evangeline, without whom this bizarre brainchild would not exist.
> 
> Also, there's about a ~15 yr age difference between them, I'm thinking Chilton's about 26 or so and Washington's 41.
> 
> Please excuse any anachronisms. And my lack of political knowledge.

The first time they meet it’s at a fundraiser. It’s not something that a young administrator of a psychiatric facility would normally be invited to, politicians often staying far clear of his turf, but Chilton’s always been good at weaseling his way up where he doesn’t belong, his money paving his way and it’s places like this he thrives. He can practically smell the power of these up and coming politicians and the only thing he wants more than power for himself is to be surrounded by the power of others. It makes him weak at the knees, makes him want to _drop_ to his knees, and he knows this is what he likes.

He’s donated to the campaign for good show. He doesn’t actually care, if he’s honest, about any of these lawmakers. He can afford to ignore the law. His donation allows him access. What he wants from this is to feel the power and influence of these men and women and so he stalks around the room, trying to suss out who he could pull.

There’s a few people he recognises from TV. Congresswoman Schuyler, daughter of the late VP. Rich kid with morals. She is powerful, but she could also see through him in a split second. As much as he likes getting stepped on, he wants to avoid a black eye this time around. He keeps moving.

He slips by the table of press, accepts a glass of champagne that was handed to him, and grabs a couple of hors d’oeurves.

Then he sees him.

Senator Washington, glorified veteran, golden boy of the Virginian Democrats.

His suit fits him perfectly, which is a nice change from the typical congressman. He cares about his appearance. Washington is enormous, too, in posture and sheer mass. His stature itself commands attention, he stands stall and straight and he oozes power and that’s what Chilton wants more than anything else right now, what he craves.

Washington shakes the hand of a sponsor and smiles warmly, moves along to the next person, and Chilton notices his aide walking alongside him. They’re familiar. He makes a note of this, pays attention to how Washington’s hand lingers for maybe a moment too long on the small of this man’s back as he ushers him along.

Chilton bides his time, waits until there’s a lull. He accepts another glass of champagne, samples one of the desserts, and then makes his way over to the senator.

Washington looks up as Chilton strides over.

Chilton extends a hand. “Senator Washington? I’m Doctor Frederick Chilton, administrator of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.”

Washington eyes him, sizing him up. “That’s quite a title,” he smiles, practiced, and then gestures to his aide, “This is my right hand man, as it were, Colonel Alexander Hamilton.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Senator, Colonel,” he fawns, and then turns directly to Washington “I’ve been following a lot of your policy in recent days and I’m honoured to have the chance to speak with you. I have a proposition for you, if there’s any chance we could discuss in a more private setting?”

“By all means,” Washington nods and glances around, “Though it does seem this little soirée is wrapping up.”

“I won’t take up much of your time, Senator,” Chilton coaxes, and Washington glances at Hamilton.

“Things are wrapping up here, Alex. Feel free to head home. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Hamilton glances between the two of them and nods, turns on his heel.

The fundraiser starts clearing out, most of the people and press gone. The cleaners and caterers remain and Chilton puts his hand on Washington’s back. It’s too familiar, and Washington raises an eyebrow at him.

“Could I buy you a drink, Senator?” Chilton asks, and he hopes he’s as smooth as he knows he can be.

Washington takes a moment to consider this. He shrugs.

“Fine,” he nods, “But I don’t have all night. There’s a bar near here.”

Chilton nods.

“Let’s go.”

 

Washington sits down in a dimly lit booth near the back of the bar. Chilton arrives a minute later with a tumbler of whiskey in each hand. Sets one down in front of Washington.

“Cheers,” Chilton holds his glass up and Washington clinks his own, warily.

They sit in silence for a moment.

“So,” Washington starts, “What could the administrator Baltimore State want with me? And, if you don’t mind me asking, aren’t you a little young to be administrator?”

Chilton smirks.

“I graduated top of my class. And there are some titles that money can, in fact, buy. I’m sure you understand, in your profession.”

He pauses, thoughtful, and then continues.

“You’re a powerful man,” he says and Washington raises an eyebrow. “I like surrounding myself with powerful people.”

“Okay…”

“This isn’t about any political platform or funding or legislative pull or anything like that.”

Washington stares at him.

“You look like a man who not only enjoys having power, but exerting it. Am I right?”

“What do you mean, Dr Chilton?”

“You’re married, aren’t you, Senator? Though you seem to have a close relationship to that aide of yours, don’t you? Hamilton, is it?”

Washington’s jaw clenches. Chilton can see anger glint in his eyes and God, he would be _so_ good.

“What might you be implying?” Washington asks, calculated.

“Just that your relationships may not be entirely closed, and that you may be… Flexible to certain arrangements?

“We’re done here, Doctor,” Washington spits, and makes to stand, but Chilton grabs his hand.

“You haven’t heard my proposition yet, Senator.”

He sits back down.

“Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“Not in the slightest,” Chilton scoffs, “I have money. I have pull. Honestly there’s only one thing you can give me that I’d want and that’s not something I’ll force. I simply mean to point out that you seem to like younger men and you like exercising your power.”

Washington glares. “What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck me. Mercilessly.”

They both sit in silence staring at each other.

Washington’s face is a mask of dislike.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Then desecrate me.”

“You’re a slimy little man, Chilton, who should keep his nose out of the business and interests of others.”

“I could be so good for you.”

“You’re a coward.”

Chilton shrugs. “That may be so, but there’s some pain I enjoy. You can use me, mark me up. I’ll call you daddy if you want. You can hit me, you can fuck my face. I barely have any gag reflex, you know. Just leave any bruises below the collar. I bet I’m be better than that little soldier you have working for you.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the idea. I could be the best you’ve ever had.”

They sit in silence again. Washington licks his teeth. He pulls out a business card and scribbles on the back of it.

“I’m leaving now,” he says, standing up. Chilton opens his mouth to protest but Washington gives him a look and presses the card into his palm. “I’m staying at my apartment tonight. The address is on here. Shower before you come and don’t plan on staying over. If it’s going to take you more than an hour and a half to arrive, don’t bother coming.”

He stands up, leaves a few dollars on the table, and leaves.

Chilton pockets the business card.

 

He’s glad that his home is nearby. When he gets back he takes a shower, grooms a little, makes sure to dab on a particularly expensive cologne.

He dresses, puts on black trousers, a nice shirt, a pair of shiny brogues, and slips on a jacket. He looks good.

He pulls out the business card and checks his watch. He’s running a little late but he still has time. He calls a cab.

 

When he arrives at Washington’s apartment he’s vibrating with excitement. _Senator Washington_ , he thinks, _the_ _venerated Virginian veteran_. He’s on TV all the time. Possibly a contender for democratic candidate in the next presidential election. Washington surrounds himself with the most powerful people, and now Chilton gets to touch that glory.

He rings the bell and is promptly buzzed up. Knocks on the door when he gets to it, and Washington opens it. He’s fully dressed, still, except for his tie. He’s taken that off. He smiles at Chilton and it’s absolutely a media smile. Insincere and dazzling.

“Can I offer you a drink, Doctor?” He asks, closing the door behind Chilton, ushers him into the living room and he’s watching him with thinly veiled contempt but he’s also looking at him with thinly veiled arousal and that’s just too nice.

“Do you have Makers?” Chilton asks, and Washington nods.

It’s a nice living room. Minimally decorated but in good taste. Hardwood floors and rather grand curtains. An interesting light fixture in the corner.

A minute later Washington comes back with a glass.

“Shall we?” He asks, gesturing to the chairs and Chilton takes a seat.

“So, that aide of yours, am I right? Are you fucking him?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a pushy scumbag?”

Chilton glints a smile.

“Yes.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“Depends on your perspective.”

They sit for a moment.

“So, if you dislike me so much, how come you’ve invited me to your apartment?”

“Don’t mistake my invitation as fondness. I’m just hoping to use you as a little stress relief.”

“Oh really?”

“We should probably set some boundaries.”

“I’ve already told you mine.”

Washington raises an eyebrow.

“Care to elaborate?”

Chilton smirks. “Just don’t leave any bruises above my shirt collar. So, no broken nose or black eye, but anything else is fair game.”

“Anything? So if I wanted to piss on you?”

“Make me wet, daddy.”

Washington wrinkles his nose in disgust.

“Jesus, you’re revolting.”

Chilton winks.

“And don’t call me daddy.”

“Alright, sir.”

Washington nods slowly, deciding whether or not ‘sir’ is acceptable. It is, he decides.

“You know how to tap out?”

Chilton nods.

“Good.”

Washington nods again and then stands up, towering over him.

“Strip.”

Chilton does, tossing off his shoes first, pulling off his socks and his trousers and then unbuttoning his shirt.

He’s stood there in front of Washington wearing only his boxer briefs, his cock hard and heavy, a thick outline through the fabric and Washington is looking him up and down.

“You like what you see?” He asks, and Washington scoffs.

“You look like such a fucking slut.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” Chilton shrugs.

“Take off your underwear.” Washington commands, and this is what he gets off on. This is the tone of voice he needs to hear.

He pulls off his boxer briefs and lets his cock free. He strokes himself twice and then stumbles backwards, falling onto his ass as Washington slaps him, hard, across the face.

He wasn’t expecting that.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” Washington asks, and he’s not playing games.

“No, sir,” Chilton mutters.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear that.”

“No, sir,” he repeats, louder this time.

“You don’t do anything without my permission, you understand?”

Chilton nods. “Yes sir.”

“Get on your knees.”

He does, savouring the sting of his cheek.

Washington unzips and pulls his cock out and it’s big, heavy in his hand. It’s a good length and thickness and Chilton cannot wait to get it in his mouth.

“Open your mouth,” Washington says and glares down at Chilton.

He opens his mouth and stares up at him as Washington slides his cock in, slowly.

He thrusts once, just deep enough to get to the back of his mouth, and then, without working his way up, he thrusts again, deeply enough for Chilton to gag a little.

Washington raises an eyebrow.

“I thought you said you had no gag reflex?”

Chilton shrugs. “I’m much better if you work up to it.”

“Too bad.” Washington sneers. “Make sure you’re ready.”

Chilton tries relaxing his throat and takes it now, takes Washington’s entire cock down to the base.

“Better.” Washington mutters, and starts thrusting in earnest.

It’s rough and brutal and Chilton loves it. Loves being used like this, feeling someone _so_ powerful stood above him and wrecking him.

“You look good down there,” Washington praises, and Chilton’s stomach does flips. “Finally put that mouth to use. You do seem to talk too much.”

Chilton stares up at him.

“And you’re loving this, aren’t you? Just a little whore trying to get drunk off the presence of power. You know, without your family’s money you wouldn’t have any of this, would you?”

Chilton tries to react, grunts in response, and vibrates a little around Washington’s cock.

“At least there’s this, isn’t there? Something you’re good for.”

He loves it, loves this verbal abuse. Without thinking he wraps his hand around his cock and starts pumping himself. He can feel his precome on his thumb and then suddenly his mouth is empty and he doesn’t quite understand why.

Then, Washington smacks him on the face again.

“Fuck!”, Chilton screams out, and barely registers that he’s being pushed onto all fours. Washington steps around him and then there’s a blow to his ass and he shouts out again.

“What- Do- You- Think- You’re- Doing?!” Washington shouts between blows. “Did I give you permission to touch yourself?”

Chilton is shuddering, almost sobbing from the pain of the blows.

“No, sir.”

“Then what were you thinking?” Washington’s voice is dangerous.

“I wasn’t, sir-” Chilton gasps, “I just needed it-”

Washington shakes his head.

“I tell you what you need.”

He leaves the room for a moment and Chilton is half afraid he’s just going to leave him, but then he comes back with his tie in hand.

“I’d prefer to use rope if I had any here,” Washington explains, “But this should at least stop you from touching yourself.”

He binds Chilton’s hands behind his back and Chilton takes that moment to be a smartass.

“So, you have rope at your actual home?” He asks, and Washington glares.

“Did I say you could talk?” Washington asks, and Chilton shrugs.

“Just curious what you and that Hamilton get up to. Or do you like to tie up your wife? Your wife, you remember her? Does she know about your… Extramarital activities with younger men?”

He was expecting the blow that came, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Jesus,” Chilton shouts, “Watch the face!”

Washington grabs him by the throat, “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll watch your face.” He throws Chilton back down on all fours and strikes his ass again. That definitely bruised.

He exhibits no restraint. Blow after blow lands and Chilton is sure he’s raw and red and blood has probably come to the surface of his skin.

“Fuck, Senator, goddamn!” He shouts, “I didn’t realise you were so sensitive!”

“Fuck you!” Washington shouts back.

“Is that really all it takes to get you worked up?” Chilton sneers through the pain, and Washington grabs him by the hair and forces him to look up at him, glaring.

“Let’s put that mouth to work, shall we?”

Chilton looks up at him and his eyes are streaming from the pain, but he’s still smirking and there’s nothing Washington would rather do than wipe that smirk off his face.

“Open up.”

Chilton does and Washington forces his cock down his throat. Chilton splutters a little but Washington pays no attention. He pulls out, grabs Chilton by the hair, and pulls him back down his cock.

“You know, I like you a lot better like this,” Washington growls, “Can’t talk back, can’t touch yourself.”

Chilton takes his cock down his throat so damn well and Washington only pulls off occasionally, giving him a moment to breath, before throat fucking him again.

It feels so nice to blow off steam like this, even if it’s with one of the most irritating men he’s ever had the misfortune of meeting.

Chilton starts making whimpering sounds and tries to thrust against Washington’s leg a little and Washington pushes him off his leg but then Chilton goes rigid for a moment and his eyes are streaming and Washington pulls out of his mouth for a moment and then sees what he’s done.

Chilton stares up at him and Washington stares back.

Chilton came untouched. Without permission. All over Washington’s shoes.

It’s disgusting and completely unnecessary and it’s also the first solution that comes to mind when Chilton leans over, falling completely onto the floor as his hands are still bound, and licks his own come off of Washington’s shoes and the hardwood.

Washing watches him, disgusted and kind of aroused.

“You really are repulsive,” Washington whispers, and Chilton moans as if he’s just been given the highest praise.

Washington strokes himself as he watches Chilton lick up every drop of come.

Honestly, it’s pathetic and embarrassingly hot, watching him lap up his own spend, and the noises he makes, too, only get Washington harder.

When he’s done, he sits back up on his knees and watches Washington.

“You made a mess of me,” Washington scolds, and Chilton bats his lashes at him, “Now I’m gonna make a mess of you.”

Chilton groans and tilts his head back. He opens his mouth and moans and the depravity of the scene in front of him is enough to push Washington over the edge.

“Fuck-” He shouts out, and comes all over Chilton’s face, in his mouth, in his hair even. It drips down his chin and Chilton looks like he just won the lottery.

He swallows what’s in his mouth and then wipes what he can off of his face with his thumb--apparently his bindings have come undone but Washington doesn’t really care at this point. Chilton makes a show of sucking it off his thumb and pulling the digit out of his mouth with a pop, then bounces to his feet.

He leans forward as if to kiss Washington and Washington pushes him away.

“Not with that mouth,” Washington chides, and Chilton smirks.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

Washington pours himself a drink and watches, only mildly interested, as Chilton dresses. He smiles as Chilton winces at the feeling of fabric over his sore ass.

“Next time,” Chilton says, “You need to fuck me. Not just my mouth.”

Washington raises an eyebrow.

“There won’t be a next time.”

Chilton shrugs. He’s dressed now.

“Suit yourself.”

He pulls out his phone, calls a cab and surveys the room.

“It’s been good, George.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“You know, I just might,” Chilton smiles. He grabs his jacket and leaves.

 

Washington goes to bed. Compartmentalises it away. He keeps his eyes out at fundraisers and hopes not to see him and he never does until one day, nearly fifteen years later, after a series of brutal killings in the state, he organises to meet with the head of the FBI's behavioural science unit and his team.

As he steps into the briefing he greets a woman with long, brown hair, a man who seems to avoid eye contact, an enigmatic European psychiatrist, a trio of scientists, and Dr Frederick Chilton.

He’s wearing the same smirk.

“Hey, George,” he pulls a face in mock embarrassment, "Sorry, Senator Washington." Chilton extends a hand, and everyone knows he’s milking any sort of connection he might have to a man so powerful, “Long time no see! You look well. Those rumours about you running for presidency true? Still keep in touch with your Treasury Secretary friend?”

Fuck this, thinks Washington, and fuck you. He puts on a nice smile and shakes his hand. “What a pleasure to see you again.”

“No, the pleasure's all mine.”

As he leaves the briefing, he feels Chilton slide a business card into his hand.

 

He pockets it.

**Author's Note:**

> SOOOOO that was possibly the weirdest thing/pairing I've ever written?? hope u enjoyed the sin~


End file.
